


The Lament

by XxKassandra



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Troy (2004)
Genre: Ancient Greece, Bittersweet, Bittersweet Ending, Crying, F/M, Family, M/M, Men Crying, Prophecy, Trojan War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:33:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28170210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxKassandra/pseuds/XxKassandra
Summary: It all starts with the death of Troilus, Hector's little brother that slew Achilles' cousin in battle. Achilles sets out to get revenge on the Trojan whether that means losing Hector.With that, Hector returns to the city with his father when Priam came to the Greek camp to take his son's corpse and from there, everything goes downhill, all with the prophecy of the Trojan king's daughter, Cassandra. The priestess who was cursed by Apollo, never to be believed.But of course, whatever happens, Achilles and Hector are intertwined by fate.
Relationships: Achilles & Hector (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Achilles/Hector (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Achilles/Hector (Troy 2004), Andromache & Hector (Troy 2004), Cassandra & Hector (Troy 2004), Hector & Priam (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Helen of Troy/Paris (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	The Lament

**Author's Note:**

> So, why do I always write these bittersweet things? Hector is a poor baby boy that just can't have good things without suffering.
> 
> https://youtu.be/oBGFueJtOzw
> 
> If you're able to listen to this while reading, it totally sets the vibe.

"Please, don't!" Hector begged, grabbing Achilles' arm who didn't even spare him a glance as he grabbed the reigns of the horses. "He is too young! It was a mistake!"

"No, no!" He tried pulling on the grip he had on Achilles' arm but the man remained unmoving as the horses began trotting, carrying him away on the chariot.

Hector would have ran after him had Eudorus not grabbed him from behind, holding him tight against him as Hector screamed in the restraints of the black haired Myrmidon's arms.

The gut deep, heart wrenching scream of the Trojan prince echoed through the camp, making it so hard for Eudorus to keep holding him and eventually Odysseus came running but there was no need. Hector fell down to his knees and began sobbing violently.

His fists clawed at the sand and the veins on his neck became more prominent from all the screaming that held so much pain and grief. "Hector." Odysseus tried to put his hand on Hector's shoulder but the man turned to him with tear stained, red tinted cheeks. "Don't touch me!" He wailed.

Turning again, he let his head fall against the ground as he cried, mourning the certain demise of his youngest brother with laments and screams. 

Eudorus turned away, looking up at the sky in an effort to keep his tears from falling as Odysseus knelt down next to Hector and put his hand on his back. This time Hector said nothing about it and he kept sobbing. He found himself with nothing to say that could possibly help Hector.

Troilus had killed Patroclus in battle, slicing his throat and then putting the young boy out of his misery with his sword. No one had told Hector it was his younger brother that had killed Achilles' cousin until he saw the man putting on his armor, ready to leave for Troy.

He had been in shock and sheer panic had ran through him. He knew his little brother stood no chance against the Myrmidon and had been begging Achilles to spare him but the man had not been moved, even as he saw the one he loved the most cry in such despair. Achilles loved Hector, but the one who killed Patroclus needed to pay nevertheless. Whether he was Hector's brother or not.

"My brother..." Hector whimpered now that his sobs had stopped, seeming lost and unfocused. Odysseus cupped Hector's cheeks, making the prince's clouded brown eyes meet his concerned blue ones. "My little brother." Hector whispered again, hazy with shock and grief.

"I can't save him, I can't save him...I can't." Hector began shaking his head, tears cascading down his reddened cheeks. "Shh, calm down." Odysseus soothed, pulling Hector to his shoulder. Hector's tears ran all the way down, wetting Odysseus' tunic as the man held him while his body trembled and he took in shallow breaths.

Agamemnon watched the scene unfolding in front of him from a distance like many other men did. He might wish for Troy's fall and revenge for his brother, but what Achilles was doing to the man he claimed to love the most was brutal and there was no coming back from it. If Achilles believed that Hector would want to stay with him after he slew his brother, then the man was truly mad.

"A truly savage man indeed." Nestor said from next to Agamemnon as the two men watched the young Trojan prince fall apart in Odysseus' embrace.

Odysseus wanted to remain by Hector's side but the prince had almost begged him to let him be. He needed some time alone and Odysseus, afraid as he was that Hector might hurt himself, let him be. Though he remained close by.

When Achilles returned in the tent later that day, smelling of sweat and the unmistakable stench of death, Hector looked at him with wide, frightened eyes that had been swollen from all the crying that had now only began ceasing only to start again.

Achilles looked at Hector as the man looked back at him with more terror than Achilles had probably ever seen in him as the realization that his brother was now dead settled in his mind, making him breathe in sharp gasps.

Hector covered his ears with his hands as if like that he could block out everything, his body rocking back and forth as his eyes remained wide with tears falling from them. Achilles could hear his weeping as he turned away from him, splashing water on his face.

He spared one more look at Hector's way, seeing him trembling, gasping in shallow breaths where he sat with his knees pulled to his chest before he sat down on the bed, looking away again.

Achilles' gaze drifted down to the ground and now that the anger had began cooling off, he let everything sink in. What he had done and what would happen after. How his cousin was now gone, just like the youngest prince of Troy and any future he had ever hoped for that included Hector.

He hadn't wanted to kill the young prince, but Patroclus' death...It just hurt too much. It seemed like it was the only way. Like vengeance was the only way. Like avenging his cousin by killing the man who did this to him would be the only way for him to let Patroclus go. Seeing Hector sobbing like that though made him doubt himself and what he had been so sure about. He wondered what Patroclus would have said if he could see them now. He would surely scold him for making Hector cry, his young cousin had always had a fondness for the Trojan prince.

With hands covering his face, Hector ran out of the tent as he cried. Achilles' eyes followed him and he got up, rushing after him until the entrance of the tent where he held onto the wooden column there and kept himself from going any further, watching Hector run between the tents towards the sea until he was out of view. He was the last person Hector wanted to see. The one he was running away from.

Achilles spent the rest of the day in his tent while the body of young Troilus remained outside, still unseen by Hector who in his rush to get away from Achilles had missed it and honestly, Achilles was glad he did. 

He was staring at that seashell necklace his mother had given him before he left for Troy. He missed her. He wished he could go back to the island and be careless again, spend all his days there sparring with Patroclus but that could not be. His heart ached for Hector, and his dear cousin would now never get to train with him again.

Hector sat on the shore, legs pulled to himself and arms hugging them as he looked off to the distance where the sky met the sea with empty eyes, red rimmed and irritated from all the crying. Each gentle wave that pushed the water out wet his feet. It was a grounding sensation and the slight cold was preventing him from completely drifting into a headspace created by his own grief and pain.

His head was slightly tilted to the side, looking, but unseeing eyes staring towards the rocking ships as he wondered what it would have been like. His brother had surely fought, fiercely so yet no man could challenge the strength and skill of Achilles in battle.

What it must have been for their father and Paris to watch him fall to his knees, the life leaving him little by little until he fell motionless to the ground and there was nothing they could do about it.

He wondered when the love he felt for Achilles would fade from his heart. He couldn't bear it. He couldn't bear to love the man who took the life away from his brother. He wanted to hate him, to absolutely despise him, to want to drive a knife into his heart as he had surely done to his brother. But he couldn't.

Was it worth it to ruin what they had for vengeance? To take a life that wouldn't bring Patroclus back. The life of someone so precious to Hector, and end all they had all they had fought so hard to built. Maybe the people that had said that this thing they had would not last were right. Maybe they were indeed supposed to be enemies.

When Priam had come, late at night dressed in an old cloak and dropped by Achilles' feet, begging for the body of his youngest son, Achilles couldn't deny him that.

He cried over Troilus' unmoving body. He cried for taking a life so young, he cried Patroclus and he cried for Hector. He though pulled himself together before Priam came outside to collect his son's corpse.

"Father." Hector called and Priam turned around, his back to Achilles to see his son running to him. "My boy." Priam opened his arms, welcoming his oldest son as he fell to his embrace. "I was so worried for you, my son." Priam whispered to Hector as the younger man let himself be squeezed in the tight embrace and tears fall to his father's cloak.

When Hector and Priam pulled away from each other, Hector looked past his father at Achilles who was looking at them with an expression Hector found himself unable to decipher. After a glance at his father, Hector hesitantly approached the man who only yesterday he thought the world of.

When Hector came close, Achilles' expression softened, almost in a small, faint hint of a sad smile. "You're free." Achilles said, nodding towards Priam.

Hector looked at him with an unmistakable sorrow in his eyes that could all be put in one word. 

Why.

And Achilles found himself unable to answer. So instead he reached out and took Hector's hand, only slightly surprised that the man let him. "If I hurt you..." He spoke quietly, looking down at their hands while Hector kept looking at him.

"It's not what I wanted." He said and gently turned Hector's hand so his palm was facing up and placed the seashell necklace down on it, cupping it with his own, bigger hand. Hector sighed heavily and put his hand over Achilles' so tenderly, almost as a caress.

"Go." Achilles almost whispered, tilting his head towards Hector's father again. Hector gasped quietly, his hold on Achilles' hand momentarily tightening. 

So this was their farewell.

"No one will stop you, you have my word." Achilles turned away, unable to look at Hector anymore. His voice turned more firm and his face stern. If he kept looking at the prince, he was sure he would not be able to do this. But he loved him too much, and thus he was letting him go. He didn't want to keep him here and watch him wither away in sadness. If it meant Hector would be happier without him, then so be it.

"Hector." Priam called, reaching out for his son. Hector reluctantly let go of Achilles' hands to take his father's who pulled him up on the chariot. Hector almost wanted to cry again, he put his hand on the cold body in front of him who he knew under the blanket was his little brother.

Hector turned back to look at Achilles as they moved away, his hand clutching the necklace and the other man stared back at him with so many untold things between them. Priam put his hand on Hector's back and finally Hector managed to tear his teary eyes away from Achilles.

A pyre had been set up in the middle of Troy where people had gathered around. Soldiers and civilians alike, there in the city at nightfall of the next day after the prince's body had been cleaned, rubbed with oils and changed into the appropriate funeral attire.

Everyone was dressed in black and the songs of farewell echoed through the otherwise silent city. Priam, Hector and Paris stood on the pyre. Priam leaned down and kissed Troilus' long cold now forehead, tears glistening in all three men's eyes.

Priam then took one of the torches from Hector's hand and was the first one to set the pyre on fire, his two sons following. The singers chanted louder the more the flames increased, engulfing the wood and Troilus' body.

The three men stepped away from the raging fire. Hector held their father close as one mourned a son and the other a brother. Hector couldn't control the heavy tears that uncontrollably fell from his eyes as he watched his little brother burn.

He felt such pain both emotional and physical. His chest felt tight and breathing was hard. There was so much desperation it made him want to scream again.

Hector didn't know how much time they stood there, watching the raging fire that took Troilus' body to Hades but dawn was starting to break in and the crowd had started dispersing after giving their condolences to the king and his grieving family.

"Come on, uncle." Briseis gently took Priam's arm and Paris the other, carefully leading the man who seemed too weak to walk by himself back to the palace. Helen followed after them with her head lowered.

Andromache put her hand on Hector's arm. "Come inside, Hector. You need rest." She said and was met with tired eyes. "I will. I...I just need some time." He said weakly. She gave him a sympathetic smile and rubbed his arm as she nodded once before heading inside the palace with the others.

Hector stared at the remains of the pyre, now all alone in the middle of the city as the pale light of the dawn started casting over the smokey sky, with a heavy heart but no more tears to shed for his brother's doom. 

"Do not weep, brother." He heard a young, feminine voice whisper from behind him. It would usually make him wince at least, but now he remained still as Cassandra circled around him.

Hair wildly put back, with pieces hanging in front of her face, dark, smudged liner framing her brown eyes that always seemed so clouded and a black, very simple tunic covering her. Bare of any golden jewels and details on the fabric that portrayed her royalty, unlike all the other members of the family. Her head was lowered and tilted to the side as she looked at Hector, making a full circle and ending up behind him again.

"I had warned you about that man." She said. Her breathy, quiet voice sending shivers down Hector's spine and gave him the eerie feeling he always got when Cassandra was close.

She had never been well. She always talked about prophecies and the future, claiming that it was Apollo's curse that no one ever believed her. Their mother had been the only one who managed to somewhat control her. After Hecuba died, Cassandra only worsened.

With no one to look after her like Hecuba did, Cassandra lingered in the temples, or roamed the streets of Troy at night speaking of prophecies of death, fire and a horse. She terrified people and even though she never hurt anyone, even Hector who was her brother sometimes could not handle her preternatural, in a sense, presence.

"Yet you didn't believe me." She whispered. Her hand making its way to Hector's shoulder. "Now you must feel the pain." 

"Go inside, Cassandra." He said firmly, trying to cover how uneasy her presence made him. "Troy will burn, just like our brother." Her hands slowly made their way around his chest and Hector tried very hard not to wince.

"And you will bear the burden of your choice," She rested her forehead on his shoulder, her frail, slightly unsteady hands traveling down his stomach where they remained loosely wrapped. "To always be reminded of the man who killed your brother."

Hector, almost violently, pulled away from Cassandra and turned to see her with an almost sinister smile. "What are you saying, you crazed woman!" Hector shouted, taking steps backwards, away from his sister who started laughing humorlessly. "We will all burn, Hector." She said, she too stepping back into the shadows. "You will burn in the fire of your guilt."

Her eyes then widened and Hector could almost see them sparkling. "The horse will burn us all." She whispered and retreated into the darkness.

Hector hugged himself, Cassandra's words repeating themselves into his mind as he now once again stood alone. Like a little child afraid of the dark, Hector ran back to the palace and into his chamber. A room that used to feel like home but after so long in that tent, Hector almost felt estranged from the palace. 

Andromache's presence in the room though somehow calmed him. She was asleep on the bed but at least he was not alone and in that moment he felt really thankful for it. 

He didn't dare looking towards the balcony to where the shore was and the tents of the Greek camp still stood. He laid down on the bed and sleep took him almost instantly, having exhausted himself with crying for so long.

It was only two nights ago Hector's sleeping body was embraced by Achilles' strong arms. The man who made him feel like there was something else out there, more than being a prince and following orders. Now though as did for so many years before, he was the one to wrap his arms around Andromache's tall but skinny frame, hoping to find some sort of comfort in the woman he used to love in what seemed ages ago.

That morning, he woke up after dreaming of fire, so much blood and screams bouncing around his skull. It was the vision of Achilles driving his sword into Troilus' chest though that made him jolt awake from his sleep, covered in cold sweat. Fortunatelly, Andromache was there to calm him down. It was somewhat odd to see her again after Achilles' face being the first thing he saw in the mornings for the past months. 

Hector was always one to wear darker colors. This time though, he was wearing black to grieve for the member of his family that had traveled the river Styx too early, just like everyone else in the palace.

The atmosphere was tense and musky. No one spoke at the table and glances were being thrown around. Mostly towards Helen and Hector. They silently accused the blonde woman for all her arrival had brought upon them and if they blamed Hector for being unable to stop Achilles, then that was how he felt too.

It was Cassandra who stared at him the most evidently and was not trying to hide it. He would say that she blamed him, but her eyes weren't accusing. They were knowing, and that was what scared Hector the most.

Twelve days of mourning and peace to honor the fallen prince had passed and the scouts had returned to inform them that the Greeks had left the shores. That the gods had punished them and made them flee Troy and thus, they left a tall, wooden horse as a gift to Poseidon as a good omen for their journey back to their homeland.

Hector didn't go out like everyone else to be at the celebration as the horse was being pulled into the city. He hated how they all seemed to have forgotten that their prince died as they danced and sang around the gift their enemy had left.

That night, Hector found himself in the balcony, looking off at the now empty of any ships sea. Despite himself, he felt a sense of emptiness and longing now that everything was done and Achilles was to become nothing but a memory. He didn't know if that would be a pleasant memory or one that would haunt him forever. Maybe both, and it left a bittersweet taste Hector found that he didn't quite like.

The horse will burn us all.

Cassandra's words resurfaced in his mind and his eyes went wide. "The horse." He whispered and bolted from his spot in the balcony and out of the room, leaving Andromache to look at him like he had gone mad.

He ran through the halls of the palace, past Priam but the old man grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "Where are you going in the dead of the night?" The old man asked worriedly. "Burn it, father." Hector said urgently and Priam shook his head, not understanding what Hector was referring to.

"Burn it!" Hector shouted fretfully, trying to pull away from Priam's grasp. "Hector, stop!" The old man pulled his son close but Hector still struggled. "Burn it, or it will burn us!" Hector told his father, the tone of his voice stressing how serious he was but also how panicked he looked. "Cassandra." Priam muttered to himself. She was the only one who spoke like that and now had no doubt that mad daughter of his had filled his son's mind with her venom.

"Guards!" Priam shouted for help when he started struggling to restrain Hector. Two big, armored guards came to the king's aid within moments. "Take him to his chamber. Make sure he stays there." Priam commanded and the two men grabbed the prince by the arms.

"Father, no! Burn it! Burn it!" Hector screamed into the silence of the night as he was taken away by the guards and back to his chamber. There, guards held the door shut until Hector stopped banging his hands against it, demanding they let him out.

"Let me...out..." Hector trailed off, realizing that his efforts were doing him no good and he turned around, his back against the door and slid all the way down until he was sitting on the floor, head in his hands.

"Hector?" Andromache asked, now standing next to the bed, keeping her distance from the man on the door. Hector looked up at her. "Pack." He said and hoisted himself up. "What?" She followed Hector at the closet from where he pulled out two cloaks and threw the one at her. Andromache caught the fabric that hit her chest and looked at Hector with questioning and slightly anxious eyes.

Hector grabbed her shoulder with one hand, his other holding his cloak. "We need to leave." He said. "The Greeks are inside the city." As he said that, he watched her eyes go wide and fill with terror. "How do- how do you know this?" She whispered fearfully.

"I know." He stressed, not giving her any further explanations because he knew that once he told her it was one of Cassandra's visions that made him cause such panic, she would call him mad. He too feared than he might be mad, but something inside him told him he wasn't. He had never believed Cassandra but now he did, it all made sense and she couldn't have known about the horse the day if the funeral.

Outside the balcony, a flame had bursted and both Hector and Andromache turned their heads. He was the first to run there with Andromache following right behind. They both looked outside the balcony at the fire on the wall and the gates slowly opening. 

So it had began.

"Hector?"

"Wear the cloak." He told her as he rushed to the door. With one particularly hard push, expecting it to be met with resistance but found none, the door flew open and there were no guards on the hallway. 

Soon, the first scream was heard, and after that one came after the other as Trojans were being slaughtered outside the palace and the whole Greek army swarmed through the gates with war cries. 

Hector held Andromache's hand tightly as they ran down the hall to Paris' room first, taking him and Helen with them. Priam though wasn't in his room and neither was Briseis. 

With a groan of frustration, Hector let go of Andromache's hand. The old fool must have gone to the temple to confront Cassandra and Briseis must be in the shrine of Apollo. "Where are you going?" Paris asked as he watched his brother leave. "To find the others." Hector said as he ran out of the palace. "Follow me." Hector heard Andromache saying and he knew she would lead them to the tunnel after they had gathered all the Trojans they could take with them just as Hector had told her to do long ago, before he ever left with Achilles in the Greek camp. 

Right outside the palace, Hector dodged a burning tree branch that would have otherwise fallen on him. He looked around and saw the city in complete chaos. People were screaming and houses were burning, soldiers were running to defend their city and the clash of swords vibrated in the ground to Hector's very soul. "Run to the tunnel!" He shouted at the panicked Trojans as he ran past them. Upon reaching the center of the city, he had to hide behind trees and crumbling walls to avoid the enemy soldiers but also his own line up.

He had no time to fight, fighting was pointless at this point. It was too late and Hector had grabbed a few soldiers as they rushed past him that he knew had families and children, telling them to retreat and take others to the tunnel with them. To save themselves.

At last, he had reached the dark temple of Apollo inside the city and cautiously walked inside. His eyes scanned the darkness and he looked down at his feet to see what had caused the clanging sound. He reached down and closed the eyes of the fallen Trojan soldier whose bloodied sword he picked up and held it tightly in his hand as he walked further into the uncanny, obscure temple.

Right in front of the altar, the only place the moonlight reached, Hector saw a figure down on their knees, praying. "Cassandra." He called but the woman did not respond. She raised her arms up towards the golden statue of the sun god, her head rolling on her shoulders and her mouth hanging slightly open. "Hector." Cassandra whispered, drawing out the word. "Come." Without opening her eyes, she reached her hand out to him as if she knew exactly where he was. 

Hector approached her a bit hesitantly and she took his hand, urging him to sit down next to her and so he did. She held his hand tightly as her body moved like the waves of an ocean and her eyes remained closed. "We need to leave, the city is-"

"Burning? Oh, but I know." She finished his sentence. "Do you believe me now, brother?" She asked as she moved from side to side swiftly. "I believe you." Hector said and Cassandra smiled widely, greatly pleased. At last, after so many years she could be free from the sun god's curse. She felt intoxicated, like too much wine was flowing in her veins and she drowsily leaned on her brother's shoulder. "Cassandra." He shook his shoulder but the woman only hummed. "We need to go now." He said now more firmly, taking her hand.

"Come on, get up." He grunted out as he helped her to her feet. "Hector." She said. "I'm here, I'm here." He assured, keeping a strong grip on her waist and he helped her out of the temple.

"Brother," She whispered desperately and with a weak hand on his cheek, she made him turn his head to look at her. "Find him...find the Myrmidon. You will regret it if you don't."

Hector looked at her with questioning brown eyes, almost hopeful.

"Hector!"

"Briseis!" Hector saw his cousin running towards them, his father behind her, trying to keep up with her pace. "Take her, go to the tunnel." Hector said, hastily urging Briseis to hold Cassandra. "What about you?" Briseis asked.

"I need to find someone." He said, looking from Cassandra to Briseis. "Do not be foolish, who is there to find?" Priam asked sternly. Hector tore his eyes away from his father and looked behind him to the running crowd.

"Someone important." Hector told them and was about to leave when Cassandra called his name. "Beware of the hunter, Hector." Cassandra left one more of her cryptic messages and Hector nodded, turning his heel and running through the crowd, now quite sure what his sister had meant by that.

"The hunter...The hunter." Hector muttered, forcing his way through the people until he reached the stairs led down to Apollo's shrine. He looked over the ledge, all around. His mind working fast to identify what could possibly what Cassandra had spoken of.

His eyes squinted as he looked down on the grass to the battle that was taking place and saw the man. Blond hair waving around as he swung his sword around with such skill and strength. His heart felt like it skipped a beat as he watched Achilles fight Agamemnon's men, finishing them off quickly, one after another making it look effortless.

Hector looked around then and at last, everything fell in place. There, from their right was the shrine and from the left towered a tall statue of Apollo with an archer aiming down at the men. The bow and arrow, symbol of the hunter. 

Hector hurried off to the man with the bow as fast as he could and tackled him to the ground with as much force as he could put into his throw and they went down. They wrestled down on the dirty ground, both trying to get their hands around each other's throat, punching and kicking.

Hector doubted he'd ever felt such rage, not even when he had been helplessly screaming in the sand before Troilus' death. Not in that extent, to be able to squeeze someone's throat so tight until they passed out, but every second he thought that this man would have shot Achilles, the more strength was put in his hold, almost animalistic.

The man had a hold on his throat as well, he too squeezing as hard as he could but Hector was in the position that gave him the advantage, as he was on top of the man and eventually the other's hands fell form his neck and Hector also pulled away his. He panted as he looked at the unconscious soldier on the ground.

After catching his breath, Hector hoisted himself up to his feet with the support of the ledge and looked over it. "Oh Gods, oh gods." He breathed heavily, looking down at Achilles who was on his knees with an arrow on his shoulder. An arrow that would have hit him in the chest, had Hector not thrown the archer off his feet.

Still feeling a little unsteady from the lack of oxygen, Hector went down the stairs as quickly as he could and dropped down in front of Achilles. "What are you doing here?" Achilles asked breathlessly.

"Shh, don't speak. Don't speak." Hector soothingly rubbed Achilles' other shoulder. "Hector-"

"I know, I know." Hector took his hand away from Achilles to shed his cloak and tugged it with force until it ripped and when he managed it, he wrapped the piece tightly around Achilles' injured shoulder.

Achilles was too distracted watching the muscles on Hector's arms and forearms work on the fabric, tearing it apart with more strength than Achilles had ever seen Hector use out of the battlefield.

"It will hurt. Focus on me." Hector warned, despite knowing that Achilles was anything but fragile and could handle pain. Hector took hold of the arrow from where it entered Achilles and pressed on bloodied part of breastplate where the skin was irritated and swollen underneath it.

"Seems like once again...you're the one saving me..." Achilles gave a breathless huffed out chuckle. He had come to the city to make sure Hector safely left Troy, and yet there they were, Hector being the one patching him up.

"Take a deep breath." Hector instructed and Achilles did. With one hard pull, the arrow was out. Achilles groaned with the sting of it as the widest part of the arrowhead left his shoulder and Hector threw it aside. "Here, it's over." He said, so reassuringly and pressed a piece of the ripped tunic directly on the wound, using another strap of it to tie it and hold it in place.

"You need to go." Achilles breathed out, his hand going to Hector's cheek. "No." Hector shook his head. His hands caressed Achilles' hair as he was faced with the hardest choice of his life.

Hector put Achilles' good arm over his shoulders and helped him up. "Hector." Achilles said, "Go." He tried to pull away but Hector held him in place. "I'm not going. Don't make me leave again." Hector said sternly but Achilles would see the emotion in the man's dark eyes that the reflection of the flames warmed.

As Hector supported Achilles, the blond soon realized that he was being led outside the city. They walked through the marching soldiers but no one dared touching them. It was like they were invisible to the chaos and they were each other's shield. No Trojan approached because of Hector, just like no Greek because of Achilles.

Hector felt fresh tears wetting his face that had gotten dirty from all the smoke as they walked past the crumbling gates. The pale light of the dawn had started making its appearance but the smoke of the fire was painting over it with darkness in the sky.

Hector looked at the horizon, where over the dunes the shore was visible and the ships that would carry them away swayed along with the water.

Andromache and the rest had gotten as many Trojans as they could out and waited for Hector. Cassandra though smiled knowingly, wrapping her arms around herself and walking as smoothly as the waves of the sea inside the tunnel. "He's not coming."

And indeed, Hector never came.

Instead, the ships had carried him and Achilles to an island where he, as Cassandra had seen once too many times in her vision, lived the rest of his life with the man who had killed his brother.

**Author's Note:**

> Go ahead and leave a comment if you'd like. This ship is seriously underrated and deserves all the hype like stucky amount of hype and y'all can fight me. Also Cassandra is such an interesting character or is it just me?
> 
> Also make sure to read "Fall Of A City" if you haven't already!


End file.
